In the Prefect's Bathroom

Chapter 7 ~ Worship 2

Dressed in a Tartan housecoat, Tartan slippers and with a Tartan towel tucked under one arm, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall flip-flopped toward the Prefect's bathroom, ready for a luxurious soak and swim. She always waited late at night to indulge herself when the urge hit her. A nice, long immersion in lavender-scented bubbles just sounded perfect.

She reached the door to the bathroom and was just about to say the password, when she noticed the sign hanging on the knob.

"Out of Order."

"Oh, blast and bother," she hissed, incensed that no one told her the bath wasn't working. "Argus really needs to keep me abreast of these things."

Greatly disappointed, she padded her way back up the corridor, intending on giving Filch a long lecture about informing her of what was happening around the castle. Apparently, Snape did more than just peel off his robe once he made his decision to indulge Hermione. There was a lot to be said for taking precautions.

Snape kissed Hermione for a good forty-five minutes, the kissing becoming much more passionate as Hermione pulled on his body persistently, running her hands over his scars, pulling on his shoulders, pressing and rubbing herself against him wantonly as he hungrily and torturously continued his gently assault on her mouth, not allowing her to rush him. He still caressed her carefully, turning up the ardor, his hands slipping over her buttocks and the back of her thighs now. It was like stoking a fire, each caress adding to the heat nearly crackling between her legs. She was so turned on.

Hermione broke away from his kisses and panted, "I've never been snogged so much in all my life."

"I happen to enjoy snogging," Snape said softly, returning to her mouth.

Hermione felt ready to rape him, and might have tried if she thought she was strong enough to get the maddening wizard on his back. Suddenly, Snape slowly slid his hand between their bodies, the palm easing down her belly. Oh gods, was he going to touch her there? Please, let him touch her there.

But Snape's hand stopped just below her navel and just above her pubic hair, resting against her flesh, strong and unmoving.

"Oh gods," Hermione hissed, pressing against it insistently. Suddenly, she felt warmth emit from his touch, settling into her lower belly and tingling for a moment before the sensation ended.

"A contraceptive spell," Snape informed her, slowly walking her backwards toward the huge stack of fluffy towels, then turning slightly so he could reach them. With one hand he unceremoniously knocked them over, scattering them on the tiled floor. There were so many, they covered the approximate area of a queen-sized bed. Instant mattress ala Snape.

Hermione was more than ready to sink down to the floor and tried to pull away from Snape, who held on to her for a moment, then easily swooped her up into his arms. She let out a little surprised shriek as he kissed her yet again.

"Allow me," he said softly, then eased down to one knee and gently placed Hermione on the fluffy towels as if he were arranging her. She looked up at him as he carefully arranged her still damp hair, fanning it out around her head, his eyes appreciative. He continued kneeling as he gazed down on her body, swallowing as he drank her in.

"I feel like a starving man presented with a banquet of the most delightful fare on earth," he said to her, licking his lips slightly. "You're absolutely edible."

He lifted Hermione's hand and suckled the back of it, smacking his lips slightly, then letting out a sigh of pleasure.

"I can taste you now," he said softly. "And smell you."

"What?"

"I can taste you. I wanted your flavor, but you had bathed and stripped away that intoxicating scent and taste. It took time to make your natural sweetness return. Thus, the kisses," he told her. "I wanted you to—perspire."

"You purposely made me sweat?"

"Yes, so I could do this," he said, lightly licking her wrist.

"And this—"

He pulled her arm upward and kissed the skin were her arm bent.

"And this—"

He leaned down and pressed his lips against her armpit, which sent a tickling thrill shuddering through her.

"And this—"

He kissed the area where her neck met her body, suckling gently as he slowly stretched out beside her, rolling her on her side and lifting her arm so it rested over her head . . .

And so started the slow torture and abject worship of one Hermione Granger as Snape slowly kissed his way down one side of her body, nibbling, licking, suckling and murmuring his delight as his mouth followed her curves and contours, moving over her rib-cage, waist and hips, thighs and calves, then making love to her foot, adoring the delicate arch, well-turned ankles and wriggling toes as she arched and cursed quite a bit. He didn't seem to notice her pulling his hair as he rolled her to her other side and made his way back up her body.

Hermione's nipples were so tight with desire they hurt, and she wanted to feel his hands and mouth on them, but he only rubbed her belly and thighs as he familiarized himself with those parts of her body most men take for granted. He wasn't looking for common erogenous zones. He was looking to make his own.

By this time, Hermione felt as if she were one big erogenous zone. Every place he touched, or grazed or pressed, burned for more contact, more closeness, more—more Snape.

"Oh, Severus—I want you to—"

"Just be patient with me a little while longer, Hermione," Snape breathed as he suckled her fingers. "Just a few moments more, please."

"Arrgh," Hermione hissed, closing her eyes. Then she felt him pull at her, turning her on her stomach. Then, she felt his welcome weight as he lay on top of her back. He felt delicious and she humped her buttocks against the hardness resting against it, rewarded by a garbled hiss as Snape reacted. Then, he slid downward, moving his erection away from her plump soft flesh. Hermione could have cried before his lips connected with her shoulders and he began to work his way down, licking, kissing, running his tongue along her spine, kissing the dimples of her lower back, his hands still caressing, moving, keeping contact. His lips slid over the smooth skin of her buttocks, his tongue dipping into the cleft and Hermione jerking at the slippery feel of it. Again, he kissed her legs, taking time on the sensitive back of her knees so her limbs shuddered. He rose to his knees and drew his hands down from her shoulders, over her back and arse and down her thighs, a dark fire in his eyes.

"So beautiful," he breathed, before lifting her leg and turning her over to her back and looking down at her. Hermione's eyes were wet, and her body undulating, arching upward. Snape leaned forward then stretched out over her, holding himself up on his hands, connecting with her mouth again, kissing her tenderly as he lowered himself on top of her, his erection, hot and pulsing resting directly on her sex. Hermione's arms wrapped around his lean frame as she hungrily returned his kiss, ready, so ready for more. Much, much more.

But, Snape still had the front of her body to go and Hermione clutched at the towels as his mouth finally moved down her body, to her aching breasts, his mouth warm and soothing as he suckled each tortured tip, then swirled his tongue over and between the full mounds, then under them, another area usually forgotten. Hermione slowly began to spread her legs as he moved lower, his mouth on her belly now, tonguing her navel as if lapping out honey.

Hermione could feel his warm breath on her pubic hair. She had never had anyone perform oral sex on her, Ron was too prudish although he selfishly wanted blowjobs and she wasn't sure she even wanted him licking down there, but Snape had her nose wide open, and her pussy was practically singing a show tune. It was so sensitive, pulsing, begging to be touched, caressed. She shifted anxiously, then let out a delighted cry as Snape's tongue firmly connected with her inner flesh, slow, wet and supple.

"Oh gods," she moaned, gripping his head without knowing it and pressing against his mouth wantonly. Snape didn't tickle or flit. He drew his tongue back and forth, breathing her in, tasting her fully and suckling her clit with determination. He was at the fruit, the apex of passion, the entrance to all bliss and he wasn't going to miss a drop of it.

Hermione keened, it felt so good. He moved to her inner thighs for a moment, collecting the glistening sheen of her lubrication and swallowing it down as if it were ambrosia from the gods. Her voice was like the voice of ages and fell on his ears like the sweetest symphony ever played. Yes. Hermione Granger was more than worthy of worship, and he felt his heart swell when she shuddered and released her gift with a soft cry. Thick, musky and all woman. He drank at her fountain like a man who had thirsted for a lifetime.

Finally, Hermione's undulations ceased, her hair partially plastered to her face as Snape drew himself slowly up her body, kissing it as he returned face to face to her, the scent of her emissions cloying and earth-like on his lips. Then he kissed her, sharing the bounty. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Now," Snape said softly, shifting and reaching between their bodies, shifting the foreskin of his swollen organ down and back, revealing the sensitive pink glans for a moment before gently placing it against the sweet, hot depression between her thighs.

"Now, you become mine, Hermione Granger."

******************************************
A/N: A little more. I just had to do a little heart-stopper with Minerva showing up. I bet some of you were like, OH NO! Not now! Lololol. And I'd like to give a big shout-out to L* who sent me a little change for my smokes. Good looking out girl. And I hope you enjoy the novel, Sahara. It's a hoot. :) Thanks for reading, everyone. ***